Page 4 of Royally Arranged

I’d never been to Torino. I knew very little about the place. Dad spoke grandly of our heritage, but when it came down to the details, he seemed fine with leaving it all in the past.

“Okay,” I said, sitting on the chaise across from him. “You have my full attention.”

His fingers twitched, like he was imagining he was still holding his phone. “I don’t know how much this will mean to you, Hawthorne. Even your mother doesn’t seem to know how to react to this news.” He studied the mantel over the cold fireplace. I wondered what he was seeing. “I’ll skip to the important bit,” he said, not meeting my curious eyes. “The king of Torino has passed away. My brother is dead.” I didn’t know how much that should mean to me, either. I’d never met my uncle. Never seen a photo of him. If I was wondering anything, it was how someone had known how to reach Maverick from across the ocean. Was I wrong, was he still in touch with his home country?

Maverick’s eyes darted to me. I swear he was reading my mind. “I haven’t talked to anyone from Torino since the day I boarded that plane and left. One of my men has been keeping tabs online for any mention of the place. When news broke about my brother’s death ... he called me.”

Agitation controlled my limbs. I rubbed the velvety chaise, then, once I noticed I was doing it, forced myself to hold still. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. How did I even try to comfort my father over this?

Air slid loudly through his nose. “I’m flying out to attend the funeral. I want you to come with me.”

“Me?” I asked, startled. “Why?”

Grunting, he pushed himself to his feet; I watched him circle around to stand over me. The weakness was gone.Thiswas the lion of a father I’d grown up with. “Because I said so.”

I crinkled my nose. “I feel like I’d be your last choice. Did you already ask Kain, or Frannie? Is everyone you’d rather take too busy to drop their lives and go with you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you going to come or do you have something more important to attend to?”

Of course he knew I had nothing going on. Biting back a sarcastic response, I caught motion from the corner of my eye. My mother was hovering in the doorway. She was wearing a flowing dress crafted from lilac silk, and her expression was built from sorrow. She didn’t need to speak for me to know her thoughts; I’d always been close with her.She wants me to go with him.

“All right,” I sighed, shrugging sharply. “When do we fly out?”

Satisfied—and like he’d expected to win this debate—he slid his phone into the open once more. “Pack your things right now. We’re leaving in the morning.”

- CHAPTER THREE -

HAWTHORNE

Dad had already reserved the seats. He’d been positive I’d go with him; I should have been more sour about that. It was hard to be pissed off, though, when I came face-to-face with my mother the next day. The cool blue of the morning turned her tan skin lifeless. Disturbingly, she reminded me of why I was flying to Torino. “Be patient with him,” she said, pulling me into a hug. Her nose rubbed in my hair the way it always did when she held me close. “He’s lost his brother, Thorne.”

“A brother he hasn’t seen since before he met you.”

Her arms tightened around me. “Would you feel nothing if one of your siblings died?”

I started to answer. Then I breathed out, returning her hug. “You don’t have to convince me, I’m going with him. Even if it’s just to be the shoulder he needs to rub his tears and snot into.” She pulled away, trying to whack me in the arm, but I just hugged her again so she couldn’t. “Relax, Ma. It’ll be fine. Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

She chanced a look over her shoulder at the car, where my father and our driver were waiting for me. “Maverick wants me to continue to entertain my family. We were hoping to strengthen our connections with them. We really need their help, especially with all the extra security we’ve had to hire, and, oh, don’t get me started on how many of our business partners have abandoned us to go work with the Valentines!”

It made sense. We’d lost most of our hold over this city. New faces were rolling into our territory every day. Our enemies—even the smaller ones—were happy to take advantage of our weak spots. If my mother’s father, the head of the Cassava family, could help us out, it would be a great relief. Never let anyone tell you it doesn’t pay to marry into the local Mafia.

I lifted my suitcase. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Take lots of photos,” she said, following me out the door.

“Aren’t you going to say bye to Dad?”

“I already did. If I do it again, I’ll just start bawling.” She clutched her hands to her bosom. “Remember the pictures. And no getting into trouble, okay?”

“Mom—”

“Promise me!”

Laughing, I tossed my bags into the trunk of the parked black Mercedes. “I promise I won’t get into any trouble that isn’t worth it.”

With my phone loaded with music, I was able to relax through the first hour of the flight. Dad sat next to me in relative silence. He flipped through the movie screen on his chair, never settling on any one video. He left each half-finished.

We should talk.It was obvious and that made it painful. I’d never talked for long stretches with Maverick, not unless it was about money. Business talk. Nothing deeper.What if he gives me the cold shoulder when I try to make conversation?But even as I wondered this, I was already sliding my earbuds aside.

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